The Ballad Of The First-Born…

I was a young girl I was hopeful I had been waiting for this I was ready for it all I saw purple lines I felt my heart open wide I was excited I was already so in love

I was careful I ate good food I did yoga I read and read and read I rubbed my belly I told her I loved her I sang songs to her I walked around the pond every day

He was a young man He was so new to all of this He tried so hard He made me anything I wanted to eat He loved to feel her moving He put his face close and whispered to her He asked a million questions He knew nothing could be more important

She was getting bigger She was moving of all the time She had the hiccups often She loved when I ate peach ice cream She went to concerts with me and danced She traveled inside me to ten different states She was so wanted She was already so very loved

I was throwing up all of the time I was laughing about it, sometimes I was crying about it, also I was almost always happy I bought a pink snowsuit I filled her room with green and bears I built a bookcase by myself I was ready for her to be here

We were lying in bed We were all together We felt her rolling over We felt our hearts fill up with her We were all growing We knew life would never be the same We knew nothing could ever be better We felt like this was meant to be

She was inside She was healthy She had a perfect heart She was always dancing She moved to the sound of her daddy’s voice She was growing every day She was almost here She was just about to be

I woke up late I didn’t feel right I called my husband I called the doctor I put our clothes and pillows in the car I grabbed the video camera I drove to the hospital I found my mother waiting for me there

I was listening, but I did not hear the missing sound I was looking, but I could not see the small, still heart I was calling my husband in tears I was demanding someone fix it now I was unable to breathe I was refusing to put on a gown

It was happening I was a reluctant participant I was contracting I wasn’t connected to any of it I was pushing I was incapable of letting her go They had to cut me They had to pull her out on their own

She was here now She was a pretty, little girl She had brown hair She had mama’s high cheek bones She weighed almost eight pounds She had long, delicate fingers She had the softest skin I’d ever touched She was finally in my arms

I was a mother He was a father She was our daughter We were a family We were all together We were so broken We were not happy She was already gone

Stephanie Paige Cole has been writing ever since she learned how to spell, but never as ferociously as after the death of her daughter, Madeline, in January 2007. She is the author of to linger on hot coals: collected poetic works from grieving women writers and Still: a collection of honest artwork & writings from the heart of a grieving mother. Her work can also be found in Wild Onions Journal, Still Standing Magazine, Stepping Stones and Craft for Health. Stephanie is the founder of Sweet Pea Project, a nonprofit organization that offers comfort, support and gentle guidance to families who have experienced the death of a baby. <a href=”http://www.sweetpeaproject.org” />Sweet Pea Project</a>